


Behind schedule

by Alphawave



Series: The universe sings [13]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Secretly a Virgin, Semi-Public Sex, Well kinda in Siebren's case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21957307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawave/pseuds/Alphawave
Summary: Siebren has always wanted to be the bottom for once, but rejection after rejection from his past lovers made him repress this desire. But now he finally gets the chance to experience it with Harold. He just has to put his fears aside and enjoy the moment.Of course, nothing ever goes to plan whenever they're together, but it's not necessarily in a bad way.
Relationships: Dr. Harold Winston/Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper
Series: The universe sings [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1434493
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Behind schedule

**Author's Note:**

> _You guys can find me on[twitter](https://twitter.com/Alphawave13), [tumblr](https://alphawave-writes.tumblr.com/), or check out my [Sigma/Harold discord server](https://discord.gg/DHh26tU)_

It’s not like Siebren wasn’t curious about being the bottom before, but the few partners he had were far more interested in their own pleasure than his. He’s seen the way they’d look when he gave them what they wanted, eyes scrunched up, writhing in ecstasy, soft smile and softer words just on the tip of their tongues, and well…he was jealous. He wanted to feel what they felt, that fullness they so often talked about, the slow slide that makes them gasp to the stars, the simple joy of being taken cared of by someone else. The few times he brought it up, he was rejected outright. So he kept it to himself, just stuck to what he knew, what he was good at.

It didn't mean he lost the desire. On the contrary, it is precisely the fact that it's been forbidden from him that makes him long for it even more. A forbidden fruit, stolen away, just always outside of his grasp. But by the time he has found a lover that might give him what he wants, he's gotten too old. He's expected to know these things, or pretend he knows these things. He's the almighty Dr. Siebren de Kuiper. He should know what to do, how to get that fleeting pleasure, where to put his hands and legs. That's what many thought he was. It was the primary reason for more than one breakup. 

The thing is, Harold Winston is unlike many of his previous lovers. He’s far smarter, far more brilliant, and worst of all, far more observant than anyone Siebren has had the luxury of knowing personally. A deadly combination in any person, let alone a man who knows 17 different ways to subdue an angry, genetically-engineered gorilla.

It’s a slow day on Horizon Lunar Colony. There are less staff than usual, the majority opting to return home for the holidays. Harold has once again opted to stay behind, whereas Siebren’s contract specifically requires him to stay behind for the holiday duration. It’s not unlike the last time the two of them stayed behind for the holidays, sharing their first kiss, lying curled up next to each other on the abysmally tiny bed inside Harold’s room. But whereas last time Harold stayed behind because of his work, this time he is staying behind for other reasons. Personal reasons that would make any normal human being blush, then cough uncomfortably for several seconds.

Siebren is working on his computer in his private quarters when he hears the swish of the door opening. He normally locks it, leaving the pool of people who can open it down to three. Scratchy little hands rub his shoulders a little, dipping down his back, past his sternum before finally resting on his ass. A small smile creeps up his face. The pool of possibilities has been narrowed down to one.

There’s a soft little sigh behind his left ear. “You smell good.”

“I didn’t use anything,” Siebren frowns. The problem of everybody using the same shampoo, conditioner, and soap is that he doesn’t get the pleasant scent of his shampoo at home. He has such a nice caffeine shampoo that smells almost exactly like freshly brewed coffee and he can’t use it.

“I know,” Harold says. “That’s exactly why I like it.”

His hand rubs Siebren’s ass slowly in clockwise circles. Siebren can practically feel the smile on the back of his neck, indulgent and wanting. “You’re horny,” he says.

“Specimen 28 is sleeping—or so he claims. I know he and Hammond rigged up the intercoms to communicate, but they’re occupied. Everybody’s gone away or hit the hay, and the holiday crew won't be here for another 8 hours. It’s just us now.”

“Is it Thursday night already?” Siebren can’t help but laugh a little. He has been working for quite some time now, and he hasn’t really seen Harold at all this week. He has work, but it is not important or exciting enough to keep his interest. Perhaps a small break is in order. Harold, after all, has not said he's _not_ horny. "What do you want me to do?”

“More like what I can do to you.” He spins Siebren’s chair around to face him, his grin indulgent and excited. His hands find Siebren’s hips again, a coquettish look flashing across his face as his eyes sweep down to his groin. “So many times you’ve made love to me. But how about I make love to you this time?”

“W-what? I-I…” Siebren clears his throat loudly. He can't get his hopes up. He can't. “You don’t need to. Tell me what you really want to do.”

“Come on, are you really going to tell me you haven’t thought about being the bottom once all this time we’ve been together?”

“The thought has come across my mind,” Siebren admits. He shakes his head violently. “B-but we shouldn’t. I have to wake up early tomorrow morning for a conference call with Lucheng Interstellar and The Hague regarding my tenure. The preparation for something like that will take a lot of time.”

“We won’t take long if we start now,” he purrs. “And I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t want to do it, because let me tell you, I _really_ do.”

Siebren glances down to his crotch and stares. He’s become very acquainted with Harold’s dick over the months. It’s not particularly big, but it’s not particularly small either, the ruby head glistening and shiny, veins running down the shaft. And Harold wants to put that inside him and move his hips and take Siebren there and then. At the thought, infinite possibilities sprung into Siebren’s mind, of him on his back, or on all fours, or pressed against the shower wall, Harold always behind him, pressing his chest against his back, wicked words dripping out of his dirty tongue. Given the choice, he cannot decide. It’s all so tempting, just as long as Harold is the one to do it, just as long as he's gentle.

Siebren swallows thickly, just loud enough for Harold to hear. Harold’s eyebrows rise up just a little bit, his smile widening.

“I’m not…it’s been a while,” Siebren lies.

“You’ve used toys recently, haven’t you?”

“How did you…?” Siebren blushes but gives a terse nod. "I-I have."

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Harold practically grabs Siebren’s hand and pulls him up. His other hand taps him lightly on the shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable on the bed while I get ready. I’ve got plenty of preparations to do.”

“What, two bottles of lube instead of one?” Siebren teases.

“I…” Harold pouts. “Shut up, Siebren. The first one’s running low.”

“Sure.” Siebren rolls his eyes but walks over and sits down at the edge of his bed while Harold rifles through his secret area behind the drawers. He deliberates putting on a show for Harold and stripping slowly, but he feels the tremor of his hands and decides against it. He doesn’t need Harold to know it’s his first time. This is all an experiment, he tells himself, to confirm a hypothesis. It won’t change anything.

He’s only able to strip his jacket and shirt off when Harold returns. He sets the two bottles of lube down as well as the small packet of condoms on the bed and then he dips down for a crushing kiss. Their noses bump together, glasses fogging up with their combined breaths. There’s a hand on Siebren’s chest, pushing him deeper into the covers, making him moan into Harold's mouth. He breaks for air, his lips swollen and pink from Harold sucking on them.

The hand on his chest glides over his hairy stomach, down to curl over the hem of his pants. There’s the rapturous sound of his belt being unbuckled, the zip of his pants, and then finally the swish of his pants being pulled down and flung away. Harold palms his throbbing, growing cock peeking out of his underwear and gives a fleeting smile before he tears it off.

“Turn around,” Harold breathes.

A shot of fear claws up Siebren’s chest, but he hides it behind a smile. “You undress first.”

“Only if you help me.”

Siebren chuckles as he takes the glasses off Harold’s face and places them on his bedside table. It’s a bit tricky to undress Harold from underneath, which gives him another excuse to take his time. He takes Harold’s lab coat off first, then unzips the one-piece compression suit and throws it away, Harold toeing his shoes off. He takes a moment to appreciate Harold like this, naked except for his underwear and his socks. Siebren doesn’t get sexually excited from visual stimuli, he finds, but with Harold it’s never just visual. He presses a kiss to Harold’s nipple and hears a hushed groan rumble from his eager throat, sending pleasant vibrations down Siebren’s spine.

“Siebren,” Harold sighs.

“Stay like this,” Siebren says huskily. “Help me get into the mood.”

“I’ve been in the mood since breakfast,” Harold remarks.

“Well I’m not an insatiable man like you are. Not when it comes to matters of intimacy like this.”

Harold lets slip another groan as Siebren swirls his tongue over his other nipple, teeth pressing down lightly until it’s red and hard. “Will it kill you to say sex like a normal person?”

“I’m far from normal,” Siebren smirks triumphantly, planting a wet kiss on Harold's chest. “I’m extraordinary. And so are you.”

Harold chuckles quietly as the blush begins to caress his face. Siebren finally pulls Harold’s underwear down, making him exhale in relief. Harold’s already hard, head swollen and red, jutting out eagerly.

“Come on, baby. Turn around for me," Harold says.

Siebren wants to make a mock complaint, but finds he can’t argue when those deep brown eyes are staring so intensely at his body. With a grunt, he flips over, lying on his stomach. He rests his head over his crossed arms.

Harold gasps above him. “Gosh, you really have a cute behind.”

Siebren’s lips twist, even as he can feel his face go ruby red. “Don't call me cute, I'm a man.”

“Has no one ever said you’ve got a good ass? I mean, seriously. I do squats, but this is something else.” Harold begins to knead the soft flesh of Siebren’s ass. "You really are cute, you just don't realise it." His thumbs get tantalisingly close to his crack. "Nobody else realises it either. I'm the lucky man with that luxury." 

Siebren sucks in a breath through his teeth, suppressing a moan. The sensation running up his body is so pleasurable, and all Harold is doing is massaging his ass. Has he been starved of these touches for too long? What has he been missing out on? If this is his reaction now, what’s going to happen when Harold finally penetrates him with his throbbing, erect cock?

“You’re so sensitive,” Harold teases. There’s the squelch of the lube bottle as it drips down onto warm hands. Harold shuffles forward, spreading Siebren’s legs wide with his knees. “I wonder how sensitive you’ll be when I do this.”

Siebren feels his chest constrict—whether from fear or excitement, he doesn’t know—and then he feels the tip of an index finger breach his quivering hole. He lets out a sharp gasp, head lolling to the side as he covers his eyes with his arm. He thought he was more than prepared, training himself slowly with his own hand and a variety of dildos, but nothing in the world can prepare him for the way his skin burns from someone else’s touch. Harold’s finger is cold and hot, gentle yet rough, pushing forward and retreating all at the same time. It’s too good.

It’s too much.

“Siebren, relax,” Harold coos.

His fists are clenched and shaking. If he digs his nails any harder into his skin, he’ll be drawing blood. “I…I can’t,” Siebren whispers.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I just can’t.” How can he? This is such a new sensation, pleasurable and confusing. How can a single finger wiggling around inside him make his walls come down so easily? How can he control himself?

Harold stops moving for a moment. He suddenly sits up, lips scrunched up, mirth in his eyes. His non-lubed hand goes up to his face, hiding his snickers. “Oh gosh, you…don’t tell me you’re an anal virgin.”

He turns his head away, shame filling his body with a dreadful wave of cold. “D-don’t make fun of me. You know fully well I’m not a virgin.”

“That explains so much,” Harold giggles. “That little pout, the way you’re quivering underneath me, you’ve never bottomed before.” His other hand presses on Siebren’s ass, toned and muscular. “Explains why you’re so cute right now.”

“E-enough, Harold.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Do you think someone as endowed as I am gets to make the choice? Do you really think a man of my reputation wants to be at someone else's mercy?” He wants his words to bite, but there is a sadness to his words. A confession, heartfelt and wanting.

Harold’s smile falters. His hand leaves Siebren’s skin. “So no one ever gave you the choice to bottom? Not even once?”

Siebren wonders if he should tell Harold the truth but reprimands himself quickly for even entertaining the thought. It’s too late now. With a swollen tongue, Siebren nods microscopically. “They…they preferred it if I was the top. I was good at it. The probability of it going well for both parties was low. I gave up asking.”

Harold clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction. “Your previous partners were so selfish.” He places a hand on Siebren’s back. “Turn around, baby. Let me see you.”

Siebren’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. He’s expecting a different reaction. A worse reaction than this. Carefully, he turns around to face Harold, but almost immediately he has to look away. He can see his reflection in Harold's eyes. He looks small, weak, pathetic. “This isn’t a…what’s the term…deal breaker?”

“No,” Harold splutters. “Why would it be? I…look, I’m sorry for making fun of you, OK? But…gosh, what happened in your sex life to make you think that’s something to be ashamed about? I should be asking you if you’re OK with this. First times like this should be special.”

Siebren reaches up to press his fingertips on Harold’s palm. Their hands intertwine. It’s second nature by now. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to. I do want to do this, I’m just…not sure it’ll be all that great. I don't want tonight to end in disappointment for either of us.”

“It’ll be good, because it’s you.” Harold’s eyes glance down to Siebren’s half-hard cock. After a few seconds, he squeezes some more lube and presses it to Siebren’s entrance, his finger slowly penetrating him once again. Siebren’s breathing hitches, clenching tightly, but Harold rubs circles over his stomach with his other hand, a soft smile on his lips. “Here’s how we’re going to do this. I’m going to go as far as you’re comfortable with. You let me know when you want me to add another finger, if you want me to stop, or take it to the next level. If you need to say something, tell me whenever you want. Got it?”

Siebren stares at Harold’s fingers, deceptively thick for his height. Massage fingers, he called them, from when he first learned the martial-arts when he was a kid. He’s imagined what they’d feel like, how they’d curl inside him and make him weightless, just like he’s made Harold weightless so many times before. He knows Harold can do it, if this intense longing in his bones tells him anything. Slowly he lifts his head up to Harold. He nods.

“Good boy,” Harold whispers affectionately.

He leans down to press a kiss next to Siebren’s belly button as his finger pushes up to the second knuckle. In that moment, he stays there, coaxing the ring to widen. Siebren sighs deeply, head tilted to the ceiling. Harold’s slower this time, creeping forward at an all too slow pace.

“OK, first step, relax your butt muscles. Think of it like trying to poop out something that will not come out. But don’t overdo it. Just a little bit.”

“Pooping? Seriously?” He wants to facepalm then and there but he decides to indulge Harold for once and does his best to follow his advice. It’s not that difficult, but the lips kissing at his stomach are certainly helping, distracting him just enough for Harold to get his finger as far as it can go. It rests there, giving Siebren some time to catch his breath and get used to this feeling. He needs it. He has a feeling he won’t get many opportunities to tonight.

“Uncomfortable?”

“No,” Siebren moans. “Feels good. Feels glorious.”

Harold smiles. “Let me know if it does get uncomfortable.”

Harold thrusts his finger lightly, his pace slow and steady. Siebren moans, shivering in delight. If he closes his eyes, he can see the stars glittering beautifully in front of him, heat and density pooling inside him. He feels a finger graze over his prostate and he howls, loud and lewd. Harold doesn’t push into it, just grazing the surface lightly, but it’s enough for galaxies to bloom across his vision.

“Feel good?”

“Yes,” Siebren breathes. It feels better than good. It feels blissful. Great. Exactly what he craves, and Harold hasn’t even penetrated him yet.

“Second finger?”

Siebren nods feverishly. “Please.”

Harold slides the second finger in slowly, chuckling lightly as he watches Siebren’s expression. He takes it up as far as he can until it joins the first finger, resting for a moment before making a piston motion, still slow and gentle. He leans forward to steal a kiss from Siebren’s lips, humming softly.

“You feel so good wrapped around me, Siebren. I can’t imagine how you’d feel wrapped around my cock.”

This time Siebren facepalms, chuckling under his breath. “Dirty talk does not suit you, Harold.”

“Suits you though,” Harold smiles. “And it distracts you, doesn’t it? Gets you used to the fingering quicker.”

There is truth to Harold’s words. The two fingers are thrusting into them hard now, scissoring inside him, but he doesn’t feel any pain or discomfort, just a slow warmth ebbing and flowing like electromagnetic rays from a distant star. Siebren asks for more, and Harold obliges, lubing up a third finger before making them join the others. His cock twitches on his stomach, precum dripping down onto his skin. By the time Harold starts thrusting all three fingers, Siebren is rolling his hips, trying to chase that fleeting warmth. He’s suddenly aware of that fullness from within, his asshole stretched out to its limit, and now he knows why his partners seek out this feeling so badly. Like this, you are exposing yourself both to your partner and to new sensations. Everything is so much more sensitive. Done right, everything feels so much better.

“So gorgeous,” Harold moans, a long-repressed Southern drawl tinting his voice. “So gorgeous, so beautiful. You’re doing so well. You feel so amazing.”

Siebren shivers, a crimson blush staining his cheeks again. Harold’s southern accent only appears in very rare instances, long repressed since childhood after countless incidents against schoolyard bullies. It is a pity, because it is a beautiful accent on Harold, never failing to make Siebren feel light-headed and wanting. Harold’s fingers find his prostate then and do a coordinated attack, angling his fingers just so to stroke that area again, and again, and again. Siebren almost yells—almost—but he puts his hand over his mouth and bites into the soft flesh to stop himself. He’s left in a dizzying precipice, hanging off the edge of painful and discomfort, of cold dark space and warm blue Earth. If Harold goes faster, presses harder, he won’t be able to handle this, but Harold doesn’t. He’s pressing forward with the perfect amount of pressure, the perfect speed, everything perfect. Just like the man himself.

Siebren grabs a hold of his aching cock, stroking it to the rhythm of Harold’s thrusts. Nothing can transfer that glorious heat from his ass to his cock, but then nothing could beat this feeling, so sudden and new. His hooded eyes glance up to Harold, who’s biting down on his bottom lip, a dazed smile strewn across his face. He knows Harold is holding back for his benefit. Not even Siebren would ever be this patient.

“W-why are you doing all this?” Siebren asks.

“Doing what?”

“Accommodating for me. Being so slow for me.”

“I did say first times are supposed to be special, didn’t I, Siebren? I want to make this good for you. I want you to feel what I feel whenever we make love.” He stops thrusting, giving Siebren a moment to breathe and bask in the fullness. “Want another finger, or would you rather have something bigger? I don’t mind stopping if this isn’t your thing.”

Siebren pulls Harold closer so their chests were touching. A stray hand runs over his hair, while Siebren rolls his hips, rutting his cock against Harold’s cock. He captures Harold’s lips into a kiss, moaning softly against that incessant stubble that always seems to grow no matter how many times Harold shaves.

When they finally break apart, Harold chuckles. “Didn’t get an answer,” he teases.

“For a scientist, you can’t put two and two together.”

Harold giggles excitedly as he sits back up. “On your back, all fours, or stomach? Since it’s your first time, I’d recommend lying on your stomach. It’ll be the most comfortable position for what I’m going to do to you.”

“Perhaps, but I want to see you.” Sieben clears his throat loudly. “F-for security. Just in case something unfortunate happens.”

“Back, it is.” Harold chuckles under his breath and leans down to press another chaste kiss to Siebren’s lips. He shuffles back, sitting upright as he rips the wrapper of the condom and slides the latex over his cock. He squeezes the rest of the lube out of the first bottle over his hand, coating his dick generously. Siebren yelps when he feels his ass being lifted up, only to be dropped down, a pillow slid into the small of his back. There’s a faint pressure at Siebren’s entrance as Harold rocks his hips experimentally, not yet penetrating. Harold’s voice is laced with lust and need, his Southern accent taking over his throat. “Ready?”

Siebren places a hand on Harold’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. “Ready,” he smiles.

It’s bigger than a finger, Siebren can’t help but think as Harold slowly pushes his cock inside him. It’s bigger than four fingers, he thinks, as his eyes flutter, Harold’s cock trying and failing to breach his tight rim. He does what Harold said earlier, tries to relax and pretend he’s pooping something out, and as ridiculous as it sounds, it seems to be working. Siebren’s nerves are fried, zapping him at his core, traveling up his spine. His hand squeezes harder on Harold’s shoulder. He just needs Harold to push through. Just a bit more. A little bit more and he’ll finally feel what others before have felt. Soon, he will know that tender, dazzling heat.

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.**

Harold jolts out of Siebren in surprise, leaving Siebren feeling painfully empty. Siebren’s head whips around to face the source of the disruption, complaints burning his throat, only for his expression to pale. His computer, once asleep, is now illuminate, an app opening itself up before their very eyes. It’s an incoming conference call, two black windows popping up on the left-hand corner of the screen.

“Sieb,” Harold says slowly, “when you said you had a conference call, did you mean tomorrow morning our time, or tomorrow morning _their_ time?”

Siebren can’t help but mutter under his breath as he moves away from Harold and sits at the edge of the bed. He doesn’t want to explain himself, but Harold’s already staring at him with a small frown, tilting his head to the computer. The conference call is the priority, he says with his eyes. We’ll continue this later. Siebren stands up, a thousand Dutch curse words just on the tip of his tongue and swallowed down as he walks the short distance to his computer and leans forward, obscuring his nudity from the camera. He grabs the mouse, clicks _accept_ , and then the _hide video_ button in quick succession.

Two windows pop up showing two completely different settings. In one, the morning sun is rising over the horizon, a small window showing a blend of old and modern European buildings in the background. In the other, the sun is high in the sky, a sprawling skyline fully displayed, flanked by Lucheng Interstellar merchandise and paraphernalia.

Siebren recognizes the two men on the screen. In The Hague, his former mentor and current Dean of astrophysics for the relatively newly established University of Den Haag, Professor Stijn Dijkstra. In Lijiang, Director Liu Shan, CEO of Lucheng Interstellar and head of the Horizon lunar program.

Director Shan smiles widely into the camera. Siebren knows from their few chats that he’s a very genuine and nice man, if a bit wet behind the ears about the intricacies of space travel and the moon, but he has an uncanny way of making his smile look fake. His hair is pulled into a perfect hair bun, and his business shirt is pressed and clean, a stark contrast to Professor Dijkstra, who’s wearing a heavy metal t-shirt underneath a thick, well-worn jacket.

“Dr. de Kuiper?” Director Shan asks, his English accent fluent and perfect. “I cannot see you. Can you see me?”

“I can also see you, but I can’t see de Kuiper either,” Professor Dijkstra says, his Dutch accent almost as thick as Siebren’s. “Is the connection out on your side?

“I can see you both. The camera doesn’t appear to be connecting to you both,” Siebren lies. He sees Mr. Shan’s mouth open to comment so he interjects, “A simple problem that I can fix on my end, nothing to cause concern, but I will have to do this after my call.”

“I hope you do not mind if we make this quick,” Professor Dijkstra says. “I must leave my apartment and head to work soon.”

“I do not mind,” Director Shan utters. “I understand, Dr. de Kuiper, that it is 10pm at Horizon Lunar Colony currently. I wouldn’t want to keep you up too long, considering the curfew.”

Siebren’s about to respond, but he feels something hard rub against the cleft of his ass and he puts a hand over his mouth before he can gasp audibly. Fingers rub at his entrance, spreading more lube from the newly-opened second bottle. His eyes widen to the size of balloons.

“Dr. de Kuiper?” Director Shan asks.

Harold leans over Siebren’s back, nipping at an earlobe. “I’ll be slow and gentle,” Harold whispers, before pressing the head of his cock into Siebren’s ass once again. Siebren’s body shakes, muscles clenching as Harold inches inward further and further, but it’s not pain that threatens to unravel his core. It’s something else. Something that feels so much better.

“Dr. de Kuiper?” Director Shan repeats.

“A-apologies,” Siebren says through gritted teeth. “I was just…momentarily distracted. It will not happen again.”

Professor Dijkstra laughs harshly. “Talking to Dr. Winston again?”

“Dr. Winston?” Director Shan asks.

Siebren glares maliciously at Dijkstra. He’s one of the few who know about his relationship with Harold, and Director Shan is the worst person to bring it up to. No matter how progressive he may be as a person, he will blab to his superiors, and the Chinese government still has very archaic ideas about romantic relationships between people of the same gender. But to both his fortune and misfortune, neither of the men can see Siebren’s lips twist into a snarl. He’ll just have to settle with his voice. “Dr. Winston and I are just _friends_.” Siebren bites his lip hard when he feels Harold sink in fully. “O-our conversation ended moments before this call started. As I said before, I will not let anything else distract me from this call.”

Professor Dijkstra gives an expression that makes it clear he doesn't believe Siebren. Director Shan doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but he lets the subject drop. Harold leans over, chest flush on Siebren’s back as his lips move down to the base of Siebren’s neck, sucking on the flesh until it’s the same rosy tint as Siebren’s cheeks. Harold rolls his hips slowly, fingers squeezing Siebren’s hips. _Is that a challenge?_ Harold all but says with his actions.

He could tell Harold to stop now. He could do it. End this torturous little scheme Harold has in mind and continue this conference call in peace. But he feels that glorious fullness, that little stretch and burn that leaves him hungry for more. His breath leaves his body for one moment at the very idea that he could get caught like this, leaning over a desk and being fucked from behind and enjoying it, however unlikely a possibility it is. What a tantalising prospect, if the two men on the computer screen, the two who hold his destiny in their hands, could see the way his cock drips eagerly onto the floor.

A hushed whisper of a moan escapes his lips, too soft for anyone but himself and Harold to hear, unspoken consent for Harold to continue. The lips pressed on his skin curls into a smile.

Siebren’s promise to not get distracted breaks multiple times during the conference call. Harold is slow, angling his cock up to hit Siebren’s prostate for a few thrusts before pushing as deep as he can go. He can’t concentrate on the conversation, biting on his hand to suppress those greedy little noises that so desperately want to escape him. The majority of the conversation is about his role as a _bijzonder hoogleraar_ (or ‘special professor’) of The University of Den Haag, and his future plans when he next touches down on Earth, as well as the sponsorship salary provided by Lucheng Interstellar. When the conversation is focused on him, Harold is careful and gentle. In the few moments that Professor Dijkstra and Director Shan are conversing to themselves, Harold gets bolder, quickening his pace, whispering sweet nothings directly into Siebren’s ear, making him shake.

Siebren’s own cock is begging for stimulation, so he adjusts his arms, one resting his head on the desk while the other slides down his chest down to his swaying dick. He pumps his cock hard and furious, twisting his grip near his swollen head before sliding back down. It's no louder than the sounds Harold is making behind him, and no one seems to have noticed what he's doing, so he continues, egged on. He aches to echo the sun dying inside him. His hips roll back to meet Harold’s thrusts, eyes fluttering in pleasure. He’s long since stopped listening to the conversation. He can’t anymore. Nothing could tear his attention away from the hot breaths on his skin, fingers raking down his back and smoothing over his ass. Nothing else beats the way he feels so full, of those cold gazes gazing just below the camera to his naked body, unaware of his depravity.

Harold’s cock brushes against Siebren’s prostate and his hips twitch. He’s getting more sensitive by the second, and yet he still wants more. But he’ll never get more. Not like this, two men on completely different parts of the Earth so close to hearing his ecstasy. Though the thought of being heard is palpable, he will never take such a risk for a temporary high. At least, that’s what he thinks at the moment, but he’s almost certain his opinion will waver in the next few minutes if he doesn’t get what he needs.

His hand reaches back for Harold’s wrist, squeezing tightly. Harold stops moving. “Siebren?” he whispers.

“G-gentlemen, I’m sorry, but I really must finish up here. I think we’ve discussed everything pertinent,” Siebren says.

Professor Dijkstra’s eyebrows rise incrementally before he shrugs. “We still have something to discuss but we can do it later. Same time next week OK, Director Shan?”

“I might have plans on that day, but I will check in with my wife first on whether it’s in the evening or not. If I’m not available, I will update my stand-in on all the details.”

“ _Goede nacht_ , Siebren. Good talking to you, Director Shan,” Professor Dijkstra says.

“ _Zài jiàn_ ,” Director Shan says. “And please, just call me Shan next time. Both of you.”

Siebren doesn’t even bother to say good night. He quickly ends the call and turns off his computer. With a grunt, he pulls himself away from Harold and turns around to face him, his expression unreadable.

Harold just stares at Siebren, lips pulling into a teasing smirk. “Horny now?”

“You are insufferable, you know that?”

“Perhaps, but you’re the one who chose to put up with an _insufferable_ man like me,” Harold laughs. His arms loop over Siebren’s neck pulling him closer. “You needed a distraction to let me fill you completely. It just so happened that your distraction’s a bit more dangerous than normal.”

Siebren’s lips twist, and before Harold can react, he pushes him to the bed and onto the covers. Harold gasps, first in surprise then delight as Siebren greedily sucks on his neck, leaving behind his mark. There’s a twinkle in Harold’s eyes as he flips their position, his cock still fully erect. The pillow is back underneath Siebren’s back. Harold leans forward, one hand holding his head up while the other strokes Siebren’s cock, leaking eagerly.

Harold's expression is heated, wanting, waiting for a sign to continue but Siebren pulls Harold down by the scruff of his hair and growls, “I’ve waited long enough for this. Don’t make me wait longer.”

Harold licks his lips seductively. His Southern drawl has returned with a vengeance, coating every single syllable he speaks. “My pleasure, darling.”

Harold surges forward, taking Siebren by surprise with his initiative, but he’s quick to melt under the intense gaze falling over him. The pace is faster, rougher, with no build-up, except there had been plenty of build-up before they had been interrupted (twice). With no potential witnesses, either on Horizon or down on Earth, Siebren groans eagerly, desperately. He doesn’t know where to put his hands so he puts them above his head, wrists crossing together, head tilted to the side.

“So good,” Harold moans. “Gosh, Siebren, you’re doing so good, so very good for me. Didn’t make a peep at the conference call. Know just how to make me feel good.”

“I’m not a complete virgin,” Siebren smiles despite himself.

“I know,” Harold giggles. His fingers trail reverently over Siebren’s skin before cupping the sides of Siebren’s ass. “Still fun to teach you though. That could be fun for another time. Teacher Winston has a nice ring to it.”

“Don’t get any more ideas. I might not survive them.” Siebren’s toes curl when Harold angles his cock inside him. Harold laughs again, soft and melodic and Siebren groans.

“You really are an anal virgin, aren’t you? But that’s fine.” He takes Siebren’s hand into his own, entwining their fingers together once more. “You shouldn’t have to be ashamed of anything about yourself. A lack of experience at your age isn’t anything to be worried about. I love you regardless.”

Siebren shivers, hips bucking underneath. He’s so close that reality is becoming a blur, too fast for his mind to comprehend. The strings of gravity can be faintly seen, wrapping around Harold, highlighting the sweat that sticks to his forehead and the clumps of hair sticking out of his head. Harold is not without his flaws. He’s naïve, and awkward, and blind to many things, and dangerous in many unprecedented ways. But then again, try as Siebren might, he knows that some things in the world cannot be predicted with formulas and equations.

As he stares into those dark brown eyes, Siebren thinks he finally feels that fleeting pleasure settle in his chest. Like this, Harold can fill him up with so much love and affection. As the top, he has to worry about what Harold feels, whether he’s doing the right thing, but from down here, all he has to do is bask in Harold’s presence, safe in the knowledge that he’ll be taken cared of. And Harold’s care is warm and soft and teasing and selfish.

Harold is entropy, unidentifiable, unquantifiable. Perfect.

"Keep talking like that," Siebren whispers.

Harold blinks. "Like what?"

"The...the accent, _mmm._ The one from your— _ahhh_ —upbringing. The one you repress."

Harold's eyes widen microscopically, and then he gives a shaky nod. His eyes glaze over as he tries to think. "I-I don't know many Southern phrases. D-didn't really pick them up, where I lived."

"Doesn't matter. Just say something. Anything."

Harold nods again. "F-fine. B-but first I gotta..." he gulps nervously, "...inside or out?” Harold asks.

It takes Siebren a few seconds more than he likes before he grasps the question. “Outside,” he breathes.

Harold nods feverishly, and then he thrusts harder, faster. Siebren stares at the intoxicating roll of Harold's hips, but then he sees Harold's throat quiver and shake, his eyes staring straight at him even as his head is tilted to the ceiling. "D-darling, you're so good. So great. I want to be with you. Want you to get turned on by me and my weird voice." Harold whimpers softly before adding, "Want this to be special. Want you to feel good. Want you to want me as badly as I want you."

Siebren gasps obscenely as Harold quivers above him, squeezing tightly onto his hand. They’re moaning to the stars, to the galaxies and the cosmos and the infinite realms of the universe. The supernova dies in the bottom of Siebren’s belly, exploding with fearsome heat and power as he releases with a shameful groan. Harold thrusts once, twice, then retreats fully to stroke his cock before he too releases. He gives a dazzling smile to Siebren, before leaving the bed. He discards the condom, and brings a pre-sealed wet towel, ripping it open before handing it to Siebren.

“Not gonna clean me?” Siebren laughs.

Harold rolls his eyes. “You’re a big guy. You can do it yourself.” He rips his own packet and rubs himself down. 

Siebren pouts but takes the towel and cleans his cock and stomach.

Harold lies down beside him, wrapping his arms close. He looks up to Siebren shyly. “I was OK, right?”

“Were you nervous as well?” He asks.

Harold runs a hand through his hair, blushing. “You know how you were an anal virgin? Well, that was also my first time topping with a guy. So it was first times all around.”

Siebren puts a hand over his face. He can’t stop the chuckle bubbling out of his throat. “And you were making fun of me for being a virgin. And you had to penetrate me during the conference call of all times.”

“If it makes you feel better, I might have been making fun of you because I was also nervous,” Harold blushes. "The, uh, accent kinda...comes out when I'm like that. Nervous, I mean.

Siebren nods slowly. "Elocution lessons?"

"Self-taught, but yes. Watched internet videos. Didn't want to get made fun of in school, not like it helped."

"You should talk like that more. If not to anyone else, then at least to me." Siebren nuzzles Harold's cheek. "No one's up here to judge you for the next week or so."

Harold glances down. "Maybe," he whispers. "Just around you, though. Think I'd get too many weird looks if I did it around everybody else. "

Siebren wraps an arm around Harold’s shoulders and leans forward to place a kiss on his nose. “Next time you want to surprise me like earlier, don’t do it when I’m in an important call.”

“So there is a next time?” Harold waggles his eyebrows.

Siebren turns his head away, still grinning. “Maybe not, if you look at me like that.” Softer, he adds, “Thank you, for taking care of me for my first time. You made it special, and it was all I hoped for in all the best ways.”

Harold’s blush deepens, creeping down to his neck. “Come on, big guy, don’t say that when I just had sex. First the accent, now this? I’m gonna cry if you say anything else.”

“You can cry the next time,” Siebren says. “If virginity is measured by the frequency of certain acts, then I think I am a virgin in at least a few different ways.”

Harold shakes his head incredulously, even as a grin forms over his face. “Siebren, for the love of everything good on Earth and the moon, just say sex like a normal person.”

It's hard to be mad with Harold. That Southern drawl of his just has a way of sweetening every word that comes out of his lips. 

**Author's Note:**

> _Harold is half-Chinese and half-American in my books, and I had this weird headcanon that he represses a Southern accent because he went to some fancy school as a kid and got bullied for it. I don't know where it came from, I don't know how I came up with it, but I turned it sexy, so there._


End file.
